I've got the Feelin!

[Deleted]

Characters: Stormgear | Prowl
Location: Training Room
Content Warnings: N/A
Plot Summary: Stormgear asks for Prowl's help so she can test a new fighting style.

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Researching, developing, test, repeat. This is the process that some casual scientist follow. Or that’s what Stormgear assumed. Ever since the youngling could remember, Storm had used directions and instructions to learn things. This meant she assumed there was a set agenda of how to study anything- or anyone. And honestly, that was a setback to science. There was no actual set of rules to follow. You merely had to find your own hypothesis, create your own way of recording data, make up your own tests, and find out how to fix the problems- all without rules. And ultimately, you would get your conclusion.

Stormgear transferred these thinkings into the discovery of her new fighting style, a way for her to avoid permanently hurting someone. However, she was able to immobilize them for as long as she needed. Or, well, that was the theory.

Stormgear was practicing on a dummy, a large stuffed statue compared to her. Since she was so small, the dummy was a comparable size to a scout, someone like Jazz or Bumblebee. She was sitting down in front of the testing titan, inspecting a diagram of the cybertronian anatomy. This was the key to her technique. If she hit someone in a certain spot just right, they should lose feeling in that limb, or go limp entirely. While she looked at the diagram, she moved her servo and digits lightly. The right strike for the right spot. She had to hit swiftly to knock out an entire limb. With her natural speed, that would be easy enough. But the opponent she had asked to spar would make that hard for her.

As far as Stormgear was aware (mostly thanks to the information Jazz had given her), Prowl was a master at modern and old ways of hand to hand combat. He was the best there is. That was the exact reason why she thought he’d be a good person to spar with her new technique. She wanted to see how it worked against other techniques. But he was running late.. He was suppose to be here ten minutes ago.. she thought, her face twisting into a frown of disapproval. Oh god, I hope I don't rant at him like Ratchet would. That would be terrible of me.

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Prowl entered the training room with a quiet step and a straight back. Jazz had volunteered him to help Stormgear, one of the younger Autobots, with her training. Prowl was fine with that: not only would it allow him to meet the little femme that Jazz seemed so taken with, but it would be the first time he sparred with someone other than Jazz in millennia. What Prowl was not fine with, however, was being told that he was supposed to be in the training room five minutes after the time Jazz and Stormgear had agreed upon.

It was no secret that Prowl loved his conjunx, but sometimes he wanted to strangle Jazz with his own cabling. How was Prowl supposed to make a good first impression on Jazz’s would-be protégé if he was late? But he refused to look anything except in control of the situation.

He kept his doorwings at a neutral angle as he strode into the room. It didn’t look like it had been prepared for a specific type of training, which was odd. Hadn’t Jazz said Stormgear wanted to practice a martial art?

A small pale femme was sitting in the middle of the room, her back to him. Prowl assumed that was Stormgear; her physical appearance matched Jazz’s description of her. An average-sized training drone was standing in front of her, turned off for the time being as she devoted her attention to something else. Probably a datafile.

Prowl was tempted to skulk closer and find out what she was reading, but refrained. He could find out by asking her, and that would open up a conversation topic that might generate rapport between them. I other words, it might encourage small talk, which was the best way to get to know someone. And Prowl wanted to get to know Stormgear, if only for Jazz.

But before the small talk came the introductions. Prowl let his engine rev, his doorwings giving a twitch as he stepped toward the small Autobot. “Stormgear?”